


Insomnia

by kosmickway (KMDWriterGrl)



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 05:30:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KMDWriterGrl/pseuds/kosmickway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being bitten by a rabid suspect at a crime scene, Catherine finds she's having more than a little trouble falling asleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS for episode 9X22, "The Gone Dead Train."

Being unable to sleep never felt like this before. 

Catherine sighed and turned over in bed for the tenth time. Despite the air conditioning and the box fan, the room felt unbearably hot. The bandage on her right wrist was too tight-- the skin underneath it throbbed. The rain drumming on the roof, normally a comforting sound, made her head ache.

She should have been dead to the world. The hospital staff had given her a painkiller, one they warned would probably make her drowsy. All she felt so far was more awake than ever—and acutely aware of how hot, achey, tired, and upset she was. 

Though they regularly faced uninviting, if not downright inhospitable circumstances, being bitten by a suspect was something Catherine had never experienced.  When Langston had called a short while ago with the added news that the woman had been infected with the human version of the rabies virus and that she’d need a shot of the vaccine … which wouldn’t be in from Atlanta until tomorrow morning … she found herself wondering why the hell she had let Robbins talk her into going into that house. 

It was probably the thought of rabies that was making it so hard for her to sleep. Though Ray assured her that the virus only developed 72 hours after exposure (and she’d been exposed for less than 24 hours now), the intense paranoia that she would be the one case in thousands that resulted in early onset and a painful death was dogging her. Add to it the tongue lashing she knew she’d be getting from Jim at her failure to follow the protocol of taking an officer with her to the house—well, it was no wonder she couldn’t sleep. 

Jim. Despite the upcoming scolding, she felt an overwhelming urge to see the LVPD captain’s rugged face. He’d shown up at the scene in a bright yellow slicker and found her in the back of the ambulance, having her bitten wrist bandaged. She’d studied him as he gently chided her in front of Ray and the EMT, grateful that he hadn’t  given a hint of their relationship in either word or expression. The concern she’d seen in his eyes was real—but it was nothing he would ever disclose in front of their colleagues. He would never compromise either of their integrity that way.

Jim. She really wanted to see Jim. It was early—or late, depending on how you wanted to look at it—but she found herself unable to resist the impulse to call. She reached for her phone and dialed. 

“Brass.” Jim’s voice sounded sleepy.

“Hi.”

“Catherine?” He came awake instantly. “Everything okay?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Well that makes one of us.” He stifled a yawn. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” She flung an arm across her forehead and sighed. “I feel … off.”

“Off?” he said blankly. 

“Off kilter. Not quite normal.”

“Are you sick? Is your wrist hurting? I can take you to the hospital if you need to.” She heard movement on his end of the phone and knew that he was up and pulling on jeans and a shirt. 

“No, not sick or hurt, just …” Catherine groaned in frustration. “Ever been coked up, Jim?”

There was a long pause. “I’m pleading the Fifth as that answer might incriminate me.”

“That feeling you get when you’re high … like lightning buzzing under your skin, that feeling of needing to move and not being able to fast enough … that’s how I feel. I’m tired but I can’t fall asleep because of that feeling.” 

“Did they give you anything at the hospital to make you feel that way? Or the woman who bit you … was she taking something that she might have passed on to you in her saliva?”

 _Yeah, just an active strain of rabies virus._ She hadn’t mentioned that to Jim yet, didn’t want to scare him … especially when the treatment serum was on its way from Atlanta. No sense in making him frantic  with worry … or as frantic as Jim ever got, at any rate.

Memories came pouring back … a darkened house, the rain pounding on the roof, the sound of the front door slamming, picture frames crashing to the ground as someone shoved her into the wall hard, shoulder first. The woman, smaller than Catherine, flinging her around the room as if she were a rag doll. Her teeth sinking into Catherine’s skin. Robbins’ face when she opened the door and he saw her standing, bleeding, and the woman lying comatose on the floor. 

“I don’t know what’s making me feel this way.” She pressed her head back against the pillow, fighting a sudden storm of tears. “I’m too hot and I hurt all over and I need you!”

“It’s okay,” he soothed, his voice moving into that easy rhythmic cadence he used with suspects that he was concerned were going to get out of control. “I’m on my way to you, Cath. Just hold tight.” She heard the jingling of keys and then the sound of a door opening and closing. “I’m leaving my place now. I’m getting in the car. Do you want me to stay on with you or do you want to hang up and try to pull yourself together?”

“Stay with me,” she replied, closer than she wanted to admit to losing control and crying like a child. She turned onto her side and curled into herself. “I don’t even need you to talk. I just want to know that you’re there.”

“No problem,” he assured her in the same gentle tone. She heard the engine start. “I’m putting on my flashers.” 

***   

Jim had a key to her house and within ten minutes he was letting himself inside. His feet thudded on the stairs as he took them two at a time toward her bedroom. 

She was out of bed and in his arms before he could even get through the door. She clung to him, her fingers digging into the hard muscles in his back, desperate for some feeling—ANY feeling—that would help her regain her equilibrium. 

“Hey,” he murmured, holding her close. “You’re okay. Just relax.” He slid his hands under her shirt, not to get sexual, she knew, but to give her the comfort of his skin on hers. Though Catherine was an imminently sensual woman, there were times when the feel of his hands on her was less of a turn on and more of a comfort. Jim, bless him, knew that this was one of those times. 

“You’re running hot, baby,” he said, laying the back of his wrist on her forehead. “Are you sure you don’t feel sick?”

“No, not sick,” she replied truthfully. _Not yet anyway_. “Just anxious, I guess.”

“You’ve got good reason to be.” He took her wrist in his hands and examined it, running his fingertips lightly over the bandaging. “They give you a tetanus shot?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t a fever a possible side effect?” At her look of surprise, he grinned. “I’ve had my share of tetanus boosters.”He untangled himself from her and stood. “Let me get you a cool washcloth.”

He was back in moments—he was adept at getting around her place now—with the washcloth and a hair tie. He sat down behind her and gathered her hair up into a clumsy ponytail to get it off her neck. She could have easily reached back to fix it, but didn’t—it was a sweet gesture and she didn’t want him to think she was making light of it.  He slid strong hands over her shoulders and pushed at her gently until she was lying face down on the bed.

“Did you have Langston look at your wrist?” he asked. 

“He’s the one who decided I needed the hospital,” she replied, turning her head so that she could talk. 

“He’s a good guy,” Jim said, draping the washcloth over the back of her neck. “I hate that Grissom left but he got us a good replacement at least.” He slid his hand up under her shirt again to rub her back. “You feeling a little better? Calmer?”

“Yeah. Sorry to overreact. I just …” Catherine blew out a breath. “That scared me,” she admitted. “Even more than the time I got jumped at that home invasion with Warrick. This woman was just out of control. She was flinging me around the room like she was on PCP! I’m not used to having someone get the drop on me. I guess every once in a while I forget I’m not super human.”

Jim sighed too. “No, you’re not. And that’s what worries me, Cath.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers gentle. “We’ve talked about this so often—I love that you’re bold and confident … but I hate that you can sometimes be reckless. I’m glad it’s nothing worse than a bite.”

Catherine bit her lip then finally decided to come clean. “Actually …” she said. 

“Oh no.” Jim’s hands stilled. “What’s wrong?”

“Ray called me a little bit ago. The woman who bit me was carrying an active strain of the human rabies virus.”

She gave Jim points when he didn’t recoil but he did go very stiff and still next to her. “What’s the treatment? And why aren’t you getting it right now?”

“It’s a serum that’s on its way from Atlanta,” she said. “It’ll be here in the morning. Ray’s going to call me when it’s available and he’ll take me to the hospital first thing.” 

“Is that … is that why you’re running hot? Because you’re coming down with …” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. 

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Ray said it doesn’t manifest until 72 hours after infection at least, sometimes longer. I think this is all psychosomatic.”

“You _think_?” Jim echoed. “Cath, you need to know for sure.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling Langston.”

She sat up, closed her fingers over his. “Don’t wake him. I’ll be fine.”

He jerked his hand away and glared at her. “I’m calling Langston,” he repeated, his voice rising. “Stop with the goddamn ‘I’m so tough’ routine! You could be SICK, Catherine, and I’m not going to sleep until I know you’re going to be fine!” He stood up and strode angrily out of the bedroom, all ready dialing.

Catherine sat on the bed, stunned, staring after him. Jim had never raised his voice to her before, not in all the years they’d worked together. It wasn’t in his nature. He might get loud with suspects, might let his anger show in the interrogation room, but he always checked it around the team. 

She strained to hear the conversation that was happening just outside the door.

“ … come over and check her out? … Yeah, she told me that, but I’m worried about her … I’d appreciate it, Ray, thanks … Okay.”

Jim walked back in and sat on the edge of the bed. “He’s on his way.”

Catherine nodded mutely. She wasn’t sure what to do—with her hands, with her voice, with anything. She’d never seen this side of Jim Brass before. 

They sat in awkward silence for a long moment. Finally Catherine said, “He’s going to know about us the minute he walks through the door.”

“So what?” Jim shrugged. “That’s the least of my worries right now. If Ray wants to spread gossip then let him. I don’t give a damn what he does or doesn’t know about us … I just want him to take care of you.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of,” Catherine said stiffly. 

“Says the woman who called me in the middle of the night.”

“Fine! Next time I’ll call someone else. Nicky, maybe.”

That was a low blow and she knew it. Jim didn’t have very many hang ups, but the one he did have was with her “a bit more flirtatious than he’d like” relationship with Nick. 

He shot her a furious look. “I don’t need this, Catherine. I’m not going to apologize for caring about you! You know, most women would kill for a guy who’s so attentive… you’re the only one I’ve ever met who gets her feathers ruffled when the man who loves her gets concerned for her well being!”

Catherine went still. He’d said it. He’d dropped the L-bomb. But why the hell did it have to be in the middle of an argument?

“I don’t—Goddammit!” Catherine got up off the bed and began to pace. “I don’t know how to react to this, Jim! I’m used to taking care of myself! I don’t make it a habit to need other people—not like this.”

“Well, get used to it,” he said gruffly. He stood up, crossed to her, took her by the upper arms—not roughly but firmly enough to get her attention. “I don’t know whether you need me or not. But I do know that I need you. And I’ll tell you again what I’ve told you a dozen times before—I can’t lose you. I don’t know what I can do to get you to understand that.”

Catherine stared at him, totally at a loss for what to say. She was saved by a knock on the front door. 

“It’s Ray. I’ll be right back.”

When Jim reappeared, it was with Langston and his medical kit in tow. “Thought I’d seen the last of you for a few hours,” the big man said, giving her a cordial smile. He sat down his bag on the low cedar chest at the end of her bed. “You’re looking a little feverish. Will you let me take your temperature?”

“You came all this way,” Catherine said, a little embarrassed at having Langston see her in her pajamas. 

“On the bed then, if you please,” Langston directed and waited till she was settled on her high bed before approaching her with a digital thermometer and sphygmomanometer. “Jim said you’re not feeling so hot.” He chuckled and amended, “Not feeling so cool, rather. And kind of achey.” 

“I haven’t been able to sleep,” she admitted.

“Did they give you a painkiller at the hospital?”

“Prescription strength Motrin. They said it would be enough to knock me out. I’m tired … I just can’t get myself to relax.” 

Langston took her pulse in her wrist and listened to her heart. 

“Could it be the rabies?” Catherine asked, her heart in her throat as she waited for the answer. 

“I don’t think so,” Langston said. “But I can tell it’s worrying you because your pulse just shot up.” He took hold of her wrist again. “Take a couple deep breaths for me, okay.” He set the stethoscope aside. “Fever and body aches are a fairly common side effect of a tetanus shot, especially with the dosage you got. Add to it the fact that you’re worried about the rabies virus—which you don’t need to be, since it’s been less than 24 hours since you were first exposed—and you end up nervous and jumpy and unable to sleep. There’s nothing wrong with you, Catherine, that a glass of warm milk and a low dose of diphenhydramine can’t cure.”

“You’re sure?” Jim asked from the doorway. Langston turned toward him with a patient smile. 

“I’m positive. Desert Palm will page me when the serum gets here from Atlanta and I’ll come get Catherine as soon as it does. She’s going to be fine.” He looked from her to him and back again. “The best thing the two of you can do is get some sleep.”

Catherine nodded, not daring to look Langston in the eye. She didn’t want to see reproof—or worse, amusement-- in his gaze. 

“I’ll call you as soon as I know anything,” Langston said and she nodded. 

“Thanks, Ray,” she said. “I appreciate the house call.”

“No problem. I’ve kind of missed making them.” He started toward the door. “Warm milk. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t.  Good night.”

The two men’s voices faded down the hallway and then the front door closed. She heard Jim puttering around in the kitchen. Not ready to finish the discussion—argument—yet, she got up, washed her face, and neck, put her hair up more securely, straightened the sheets and lay back down again, consciously slowing down her breathing, letting it even out and deepen.

She was close to sleep when Jim came into the room and sat down on the side of the bed. A glass clinked as he set it on the bedside table. 

“You asleep?” he whispered. 

“Almost,” she replied, not opening her eyes. 

“I brought you some tea,” he said. “Warm milk sounds awful.” She felt him brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I’ll leave it right here for you.”

“Thanks.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

Catherine rocketed up into a sitting position. “Jim, don’t go! Please.”

He turned, alarmed at the intensity in her voice. 

“I don’t want to leave things like this,” she said, aware that her voice was almost pleading. “I don’t want you to leave angry.” She patted the bed next to her. “Come sit down. We can talk it out.”

“You need to rest, Catherine, not start up an argument.”

“It won’t be arguing. Please, Jim.” She was acutely aware of falling back into the same habits she’d learned to use with Eddie when they’d fought—pleading for him to stay with her instead of traipsing off with one of his music whores. She’d quickly learned that the more desperate she sounded and the more he thought she needed him, the more likely he was to stay. 

That wasn’t how it worked with Jim, she knew that. But that knowledge didn’t keep her from falling back into that tone, that submissive posture. Catherine had never submitted to anyone … except her ex-husband and only then because she was terrified of being left alone.

Jim looked concerned as he registered that desperation. “Okay. As long as you promise to drink some of that—” He pointed at the mug of tea. “I want you to eventually get some sleep.” He toed off his shoes and came around to sit next to her on the bed. 

They were silent for long moments, Catherine dutifully sipping the tea, Jim watching her with an inscrutable expression. 

“Say something,” Catherine finally whispered. 

“Something,” he replied, cracking a smile. He laid his hand on top of hers. “What do you want me to say, Catherine? I all ready told you I’m not apologizing for worrying about you.”

“I know.” She sighed and rolled her neck. “And you shouldn’t have to. It’s sort of natural for me to get defensive about being coddled, though.”

“But I don’t see it as coddling,” Jim said. “Coddling is wrapping someone up in cotton so they’re never hurt again or keeping them inside the house so they don’t get accidently hit by a car. I just want to take care of you when you need to be taken care of.” 

He held up a fending hand when she started to speak.

“I know that hasn’t exactly been a theme in your past relationships—it certainly hasn’t been in mine—so it’s kind of new and weird. But that’s how I feel about you, Cat … I want to be the person you turn to for comfort.” He laid a hand on the side of her face. “When you called me earlier, you said you needed me. You don’t know how happy it made me to hear that. Every guy likes to do the knight in shining armor thing, you know? I didn’t mind getting out of bed and rushing over here for you. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’d do it just because you asked me to.” 

Catherine felt tears start to sting at the back of her eyelids. “Yeah?” she asked, her voice wavering. 

“Hell yeah,” he responded, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I love you that much.”

The tears did fall then and landed on his wrist. 

“What’s this?” he asked, brushing them away. “What did I say?”

“That you loved me,” Catherine whispered. 

Jim framed her face with his hands. “When haven’t I?”

Catherine let herself melt against him. His arms came around her and he sank back onto the pillows, bringing her with him. She lay on his chest, listening to his heart, as his hands slid underneath her shirt and rubbed gentle circles into her back. 

“Think you might be able to sleep now?” he asked. 

“Maybe,” she whispered, kissing him gently on the cheek—better safe than sorry. “If you’re with me.”

He stroked her hair, pulling the hair tie out to let it fall in waves across their bodies. “The whole night through.”

END.


End file.
